02 - Becky

Vicky had always been captivated by feet. It had all started with her best friend, Carmen, many, many moons ago, but that was another story for another time. There was no need to dwell on the past, when the present revealed itself to be just as interesting.

“Let me just take that,” the woman behind the desk said.

The meeting had finished, and Vicky had been escorted back to the building’s reception in order to hand in her visitor’s pass. The frankly gorgeous receptionist - a young girl with lucious auburn hair pulled tight into a ponytail - took the pass card from Vicky and swiped it on a machine next to the computer.

“And you’re all done,” the woman beamed, “you’re free to go!”

She chuckled. When she smiled, little dimples appeared on her cheeks.

“Tell me,” Vicky asked, eyeing the girl’s name badge, “Rebecca, what can a gal do in this city to pass the rest of the afternoon?”

The girl positively beamed.

“Please, call me Becky. And - you simply must visit the beach,” the receptionist told her, “the soft white sands are to die for!”

With that, an alarm buzzed on the opposite wall. Becky scooted on her chair, wheeling herself over to the panel which had sounded the alarm. She pressed a button to stop it going off, and lifted a telephone reciever hanging on the wall next to it.

“Come on through, it’s unlocked,” she said, hanging up straight after.

None of this meant anything to Vicky. In fact, she hadn’t really paid any attention to what had been going on. Instead, her entire being had been laser-focused on one thing and one thing only; Becky’s feet. As she had pushed herself in her office chair across the reception area, her entire cute little body had come into view. Poking out of a knee-length office skirt was a pair of beautiful tanned legs, ending in a mouth watering pair of feet. The toes were painted a cherry red, and they poked teasingly out of the end of a set of sandals with block heels.

“The beach...” Vicky managed.

“Sure, it’s about a 5 minute walk from here,” Becky said, “if you can wait a quarter of an hour, I’ll show you - I’m about to get off, and I’m meeting some friends there for an afternoon in the sun.”

Vicky couldn’t believe her luck. She was, by all intents and purposes, not a beach person. But, she took the opportunity that was presented to her.

And so Vicky had waited. She tried not to watch the girl too intently as she sat patiently in the client’s reception area. The girl called Becky had finished her work in the 15 minutes as promised, and it was not long before they were walking down the street making small talk once more.

Becky was very proud of her city, it seemed. It almost felt to Vicky like the tourism department had brainwashed her into reeling off all of this handy-dandy information about the city, the nightlife, and of course, the gorgeous white beach.

The two women got coffees, a treat from Vicky which Becky was very grateful for, and they arrived at the beach. Becky’s friends were nowhere to be seen, at least at the spot at which they had agreed to meet her. The beach stretched for miles in either direction, far past the city.

“I’m not really sure where they could be,” Becky said, craning her neck every which way, “but that spot right there is too good to pass up.”

As they had arrived in the afternoon, all the parasols and sunloungers had already been taken, so they would have to lie directly on the hot sand. Vicky helped Becky lay out her towel, and then Becky returned the favour.

This had turned out rather nicely, Vicky thought. She very much preferred having Becky all for herself.

It was at that moment that Becky started to undress. She slipped off her flats, her toes painted that glossy red and curling slightly in the warm sand. Vicky tried to retain her composure, but Becky started undoing her blouse in the glaring afternoon sun, plain for all to see.

Vicky tried not to stare, but it was impossible. The fabric fell away and underneath the blouse was a petit white sports bra. The girl wriggled out of her pencil skirt, revealing mis-matched pink panties.

Despite this, to Vicky, Becky was a vision of effortless allure, and in a word: perfect. Her body a canvas of soft curves and toned lines that turned heads wherever she went. A gang of men in shorts carrying surfboards turned to look at her as they trundled past.

At 5’6”, Becky had long, wavy auburn hair that cascaded out of her ponytail and down her back, but had loose strands of hair framing a beautiful face with full lips, high cheekbones, and hazel eyes that sparkled with youthful mischief. She was in her mid-20s, and was clearly very confident in her apperance in an effortless kind of way.

Her skin was sun-kissed, smooth and inviting, especially her legs; long and shapely, leading down to feet that were, truly, Vicky’s undoing. Size 7, at a maximum, she thought, and they were impeccably pedicured, with high arches and toes that fanned out perfectly into the sand, the nails painted bold red sinking into the beach.

“Can you help me?” Becky asked, oblivious to the fact that Vicky’s jaw had just hit the sandy floor.

At first, Vicky wasn’t sure what was meant by that, but Becky wanted her to hold a towel around her as she changed out of her underwear and into a cherry red bikini that matched her nail polish. Vicky looked off to the horizon as the girl changed inside the towel she held awkwardly around her. The smell of Becky’s musky perfume sent a tingle between her legs that was hard to ignore.

A loud man in a Hawaiian shirt carrying a cooler box caught their attention. Looking for the perfect distraction, Vicky bought two bottles of water, and two sickly alcopop drinks, pre-mixed in cans.

“You shouldn’t have,” Becky swooned, “and the coffee too, you’re real nice, Vicky, thank you.”

Becky deployed a small USB-powered radio, which she had been charging all day at her desk, and the gentle ticking of a pop beat sailed away on the wind. Becky settled into her towel, lying on her stomach and taking a romance novel from her bag.

Feeling a little foolish fully dressed in office attire, but having no beachware to change into, Vicky simply stripped out of all of her clothes except for her panties and her now untucked blouse, which acted somewhat like a billowy dress.

As she sat next to the girl on the floor, she thought how nice it was to feel the breeze on her skin, not to mention the warmth of the sun. Maybe this beach business wasn’t so bad, afterall, especially with a beautiful young woman like Becky for company.

They sat there in silence, for about half hour or so. Vicky had taken her Kindle from her own bag and she had sat there reading it, occassionally taking breaks to sip on her water or coffee, and to steal glances at Becky’s beautiful body lying next to her.

As she read she would catch a glimpse of Becky’s bare soles every time the girl raised them in the air. It was difficult for Vicky not to fixate on them. She replayed the image endlessly: the smooth arches, the delicate curve of each toe, how they wiggled when Becky laughed at her book. It got to the point where Vicky was staring at the Kindle but none of the words were sinking in anymore.